


Raising Rosie

by dozmuffinxc



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Parentlock, Tumblr Prompt, first lost tooth, papa sherlock and daddy john
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 07:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9480887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dozmuffinxc/pseuds/dozmuffinxc
Summary: An experiment in post-s4 parentlock. The night after the s4 finale, I had a lot of Johnlock feelings, and I spent half the night concocting prompts for myself. These are the results: a collection of one-shots with no necessary progression all about John and Sherlock's life now that Mary's gone and they have a baby to care for.





	

They’re fresh off a case when they pick Rosie up from school that day. It’s 3 o’clock, and the children are all huddled in the doorway in their coats and hats, bunched together for warmth. 

Sherlock waits at the bottom of the steps as John saunters up to the landing to fetch their daughter. This is their ritual: John, all amiable smiles, greets each child by name as he eyes the crowd for their daughter; and Sherlock, who despises the noise and the smell of dozens of small humans fresh from a day of activity, leans against the gate and casts disapproving glances at the teachers chatting with the other parents in the courtyard.

Sherlock braces himself as the pink and tan blur that is Rosie hurtles down the steps in front of John and straight into his outstretched arms. Out of the corner of his eye, Sherlock notices a gaggle of young mothers smiling indulgently in their direction, and he glares at them over Rosie’s shoulder. When Rosie leans back in his arms to plant a kiss on his cheek, the frown has been replaced by a smile of genuine affection that used to be reserved only for John and particularly interesting cases.

“Papa,” Rosie says as John joins them at the gate, “tell me about my day.”

Sherlock sighs like a man aggrieved, but there’s a twinkle in his eye and he sees John stifling a snort. He sets the little girl down on the ground and makes a show of stalking in a large circle around her on the pavement, leveling his best “deduction eyes” (Rosie’s phrase) at her as he goes.

“You didn’t finish your lunch,” he begins, “because you shared your crisps with the Irish lad who can never remember to bring his own. At free time, you played hopscotch and swung on the swings, and you performed well in maths when you solved a particularly tricky multiplication problem.”

“Oh,” he adds, stooping down to plant a finger on the little girl’s nose affectionately, “and you finally lost that tooth that’s been wiggling about in your jaw for the past week.”

“Amazing,” Rosie squeals, and Sherlock can’t help the vivid blush that spreads across his cheekbones. She really is a Watson, is their Rosie. 

The two men each take a miniature, gloved hand, and together they walk down the street towards home.

“What shall we do with your tooth, Rosie?” John asks. “I understand there’s a tooth fairy who might put a pound under your pillow if you were to leave it for her there tonight.”

Sherlock’s face twists into an expression of mingled distaste and horror at the idea of perpetuating silly fantasies to their daughter, but before he can reply that there’s no such thing as fairies, Rosie replies:

“Miss Jocelyn told me about the tooth fairy,” she says slowly, a look of deep contemplation on her ruddy cheeks, “and that’s pretty cool, but I don’t think I want to put my tooth under my pillow.”

“No?” John smiles. “What shall we do with it, then?”

They pause at a pedestrian crossing and wait for the warning light. Rosie lets go of their hands and turns to face her fathers, eyes bright with excitement.

"I want to keep it,” she exclaims, “for experiments!”

Sherlock chokes back a noise that sounds suspiciously like a sob and scoops Rosie up into his arms, placing a gentle kiss on her pale brow.

“A superb idea,” he says, and when he peeks at John over her cornflower curls, there’s a wetness to his eyes that makes John’s heart ache with love and pride.

All the way back to Baker Street, Rosie and Sherlock chatter about the different experiments that they can conduct on her tooth, and as John walks at their side, he can’t imagine ever being happier than he is in that very moment.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic came from a prompt on Tumblr. I saw a post where user sherlohomora said "When Rosie loses her first tooth, she refuses to leave it under her pillow for the Tooth Fairy – she insists on keeping it for 'experiments.' It’s one of Sherlock’s proudest moments as a father." I knew I had to write something!


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